When Kevan picked up my bike last January he drove it home over the Malahat in a blinding snowstorm. He dumped it for the first time that day while trying to pull into a gas station in six inches of fresh snow. Later in the Spring, after a stretch of excellent weather, he offered to drive it up to Penticton for me. Again, he hit snow, sleet and everything in between, and he was near frozen when he finally arrived. From that point on his name of Flurry for my motorcycle stuck.
I write this with very mixed emotions - or more accurately, with emotions I shouldn´t have. I purposely bought Flurry with the intent of leaving her here in Central America. She was cheap, but with an excellent reputation for reliability, and this strategy allowed me the freedom of not having to worry about shipping etc., at completion.
But......
During the last four weeks Flurry has become much more than just a motorcycle. She´s been my closest friend and my biggest supporter. She´s greeted me each morning with a cough and a roar, and filled each day with the purr of a finely tuned engine - even after 26 years. She´s held up well, and has stood up to the abuse of more than 6,000 klm of the worst that Central Amercia could throw at her. The tire problems weren´t her fault and I have forgiven her completley.
In all this time I´ve never asked for more than she had to give and she´s never given any less than all that I´ve asked. And now I have to leave her.
I know she´s ''just'' a motorcycle but she must be more. A grown man wouldn´t cry when it comes time to say good-by to a ''just'' a motorcycle: would he?
When you´re thinking of us on this trip please give a little thought to Flurry too - she deserves it. She´s MUCH more than ''just'' a motorcycle.
Vaya Con Dios Mi Amigo
God Speed!
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Friday, February 8, 2008
Days 24, 25 and 26
Wed and Thursday were the first time since we started that we had two consecutive days off. It was fantastic! We were able to sleep in both days and generally play tourist in ways we haven`t been able to up until now. We also had a great surprise/treat but it also had it´s sad part.
On Wednesday, Brad, Steve and I, Lonely Planet in hand, set out for a self-guided walking tour of some of the hi-lights of San Jose. We toured some amazing museums and took a guided tour of the Principal Theatre, an amazing place from the 1800's that would put any opera house in Italy to shame. We enjoyed more than a few creveza´s on the main square and I took in a first run movie at a local cinima.
On Thursday we were finally able to hook up with Rosi and Sheri! They´ve been in the country since the 30th but our paths didn´t cross until now. It was a great reunion. We did some shopping, drank even more cerveza and had a lovely dinner out to celebrate the journey thus far. The only low note was the fact that Brad was by himself. He´s in a new relationship and missing his significant other desperately. Having Rosi and Sheri join Steve and I only added to his lonliness and drove home the point that he won´t have this opportunity for a few more days. It was still great nonetheless and gave us all a much needed boost to complete the journey.
I have to say that having Rosi by my side again, even if only for a short while, was exactly what I needed to put things into perspective. She´s much more than my wife. She´s the ying to my yang and all that is good in my world, and doing this without her blessing and involvement just wouldn´t have been possible. Thanks Sweety - I love you so very much.
Today, Friday was one of the best! I say this, choosing to concentrate on the majority of the day and deliberatly not remembering the border crossing into Panama. It was typical; 3 hours of hell. Numerous different clerks, copies of copies, stamps and bribes. Some so blatent that it makes you shake your head in either resignation or disgust. This though, was just a small part of a much larger picture.
The rest of the day - and by far that which outweighs anything else - was the ride out of San Jose. We left at 6:30, our usual early morning start time, and had no issues leaving the city. Immediatley after leaving the city proper the road climbed through incredible scenery high into the mountains dividing the country. San Jose is at roughly 3,600 feet and at our highest point we hit close to 10,000 feet, except this time the road was great, the way was smooth and the sun and wind were at our back, both literally and figuratively. When we started to climb we had to stop and gear up because the temperature dropped quickly. We were also shrouded in thick mist, sometimes so thick visability was down to mere feet. But, as the sun rose and started to burn off the cloud cover, it opened absolutely incredible vista´s as far as the eys could see. We rose through thick jungle, rain forrest, cloud forrest and everything in between. The greens were beyond anything I´ve ever seen and I had to think: if there ever was an Eden, it must have looked like this. If you were to give Michelangelo the greatest, largest box of Crayola Crayons -the biggest box you´d ever see - the one we all wanted but our mum´s would never buy - the box with thousands of different shades and textures of green - and asked him to draw this landscape he wouldn´t be able to do it justice. It´s simply beyond mortal man to capture this beauty. And then, just when I thought it couldn´t get any better, the suns heat started to burn off the cloud cover and created wind currents and convection that moved the clouds up the mountain sides like a torrent of white water unlike anything I´ve ever seen. At one point, as we rounded a corner, the mist spilled up and over the road like a cascading waterfall in reverse, only more beautiful and far more surreal.
From the summit we started down the other side and slowly dropped back to realty - and MUCH hotter weather. Sweeping curves, long straightaways and tightly engineered switchbacks brought us down to the Costa Rica lowlands and a stretch of road that quite litteraly brought tears to my eyes. Up until now we modified our riding pattern to to match the conditions and more importantly , the traffic. We rode with large gaps between each rider in order to give passing cars room to get in and out. This day though, there was no other traffic and we were riding in a tight pattern. I was at the back but in close formation behind Brad and Steve as were leaned into curves so tight our footpegs threatened to drag. On my left was a wide crystal clear tourqoise river, on my right a mountain slope hugging the rode and rising steeply beyond sight. In my ears, Gypsy Kings. As we roared down this perfect stretch of road in tight formation it hit me: this was it. This was the ''the'' day and this was ''the'' moment. On each trip, as it nears completion, I always try to focus on one perfect moment. A moment I can burn into my memory so that I can focus on it later, when I´m back at work or up to my knees in snow. This was that day and this was that moment. Incredible!
As they say in Costa Rica, Pura Vida!!
Mileage, including the border crossing from hell - 435 klm
On Wednesday, Brad, Steve and I, Lonely Planet in hand, set out for a self-guided walking tour of some of the hi-lights of San Jose. We toured some amazing museums and took a guided tour of the Principal Theatre, an amazing place from the 1800's that would put any opera house in Italy to shame. We enjoyed more than a few creveza´s on the main square and I took in a first run movie at a local cinima.
On Thursday we were finally able to hook up with Rosi and Sheri! They´ve been in the country since the 30th but our paths didn´t cross until now. It was a great reunion. We did some shopping, drank even more cerveza and had a lovely dinner out to celebrate the journey thus far. The only low note was the fact that Brad was by himself. He´s in a new relationship and missing his significant other desperately. Having Rosi and Sheri join Steve and I only added to his lonliness and drove home the point that he won´t have this opportunity for a few more days. It was still great nonetheless and gave us all a much needed boost to complete the journey.
I have to say that having Rosi by my side again, even if only for a short while, was exactly what I needed to put things into perspective. She´s much more than my wife. She´s the ying to my yang and all that is good in my world, and doing this without her blessing and involvement just wouldn´t have been possible. Thanks Sweety - I love you so very much.
Today, Friday was one of the best! I say this, choosing to concentrate on the majority of the day and deliberatly not remembering the border crossing into Panama. It was typical; 3 hours of hell. Numerous different clerks, copies of copies, stamps and bribes. Some so blatent that it makes you shake your head in either resignation or disgust. This though, was just a small part of a much larger picture.
The rest of the day - and by far that which outweighs anything else - was the ride out of San Jose. We left at 6:30, our usual early morning start time, and had no issues leaving the city. Immediatley after leaving the city proper the road climbed through incredible scenery high into the mountains dividing the country. San Jose is at roughly 3,600 feet and at our highest point we hit close to 10,000 feet, except this time the road was great, the way was smooth and the sun and wind were at our back, both literally and figuratively. When we started to climb we had to stop and gear up because the temperature dropped quickly. We were also shrouded in thick mist, sometimes so thick visability was down to mere feet. But, as the sun rose and started to burn off the cloud cover, it opened absolutely incredible vista´s as far as the eys could see. We rose through thick jungle, rain forrest, cloud forrest and everything in between. The greens were beyond anything I´ve ever seen and I had to think: if there ever was an Eden, it must have looked like this. If you were to give Michelangelo the greatest, largest box of Crayola Crayons -the biggest box you´d ever see - the one we all wanted but our mum´s would never buy - the box with thousands of different shades and textures of green - and asked him to draw this landscape he wouldn´t be able to do it justice. It´s simply beyond mortal man to capture this beauty. And then, just when I thought it couldn´t get any better, the suns heat started to burn off the cloud cover and created wind currents and convection that moved the clouds up the mountain sides like a torrent of white water unlike anything I´ve ever seen. At one point, as we rounded a corner, the mist spilled up and over the road like a cascading waterfall in reverse, only more beautiful and far more surreal.
From the summit we started down the other side and slowly dropped back to realty - and MUCH hotter weather. Sweeping curves, long straightaways and tightly engineered switchbacks brought us down to the Costa Rica lowlands and a stretch of road that quite litteraly brought tears to my eyes. Up until now we modified our riding pattern to to match the conditions and more importantly , the traffic. We rode with large gaps between each rider in order to give passing cars room to get in and out. This day though, there was no other traffic and we were riding in a tight pattern. I was at the back but in close formation behind Brad and Steve as were leaned into curves so tight our footpegs threatened to drag. On my left was a wide crystal clear tourqoise river, on my right a mountain slope hugging the rode and rising steeply beyond sight. In my ears, Gypsy Kings. As we roared down this perfect stretch of road in tight formation it hit me: this was it. This was the ''the'' day and this was ''the'' moment. On each trip, as it nears completion, I always try to focus on one perfect moment. A moment I can burn into my memory so that I can focus on it later, when I´m back at work or up to my knees in snow. This was that day and this was that moment. Incredible!
As they say in Costa Rica, Pura Vida!!
Mileage, including the border crossing from hell - 435 klm
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
A few pictures
Leaving Granada in the morning and crossing the border from Nicaragua into Costa Rica
Days 22 and 23
I have to start by saying how bitterly disapointed I was in Granada. Rosi and I spent a month in Nicaragua in 2002 and at least four days of that in Granada soaking up the sites, feeling the very cool vibe and partaking in a volcano and canapy tour. Back then it`s tourist scene was still in it`s infancy and we were just as apt to be mistaken for aid workers as for tourists. There were lots of VERY budget hippy backpacker types but very few others. Not so much now. Now it`s become a hot bed for Euro Trash and Sex Tourism. We were able to take in the lovely experience of young German soccer hoodlems showing their prowess by drinking beer for breakfast and sharing their favourite toast and college fight songs with the rest of the restaurant, followed in the evening by middle aged and older, single male tourists with young (in some cases VERY young) Chicita`s on their arm. I guess it`s what happens when new dollars flow into an area with no infrastructure to deal with it and no experience on the dark side of capitalism.
The good news though, is once we left Granada and headed to the border on the morning of Day 22 things changed - dramtically and quickly. It very soon became the Nicaragua I remembered. Smiling faces, a level of civility and calmness unseen in Honduras and Guatemala and a sense of renewal and vibrancy. We chatted with locals when we asked for directions - because once again we got lost trying to leave town - and even had a great conversation with a new member of the Policia Nacional, who only wanted to practice his English. I have to say, it`s still one of my favourite places, Granada excepted, and I`d go back in a minute.
The day continued with a great run to the border.
Ah, the border. My nemisis. This time though it was a little different. Yes, it was chaotic and tested out patience but we were able to make our way through without handles and without bribes or fees. OK, one attempt at a bribe but it back-fired. The first step is to get your passport stamped at immigration but this is a major trans-migration bus route and at any time there are litterly hundreds trying to get through. The process to get out of Nicaragua wasn`t too bad - only an hour or so but when we got to the Costa Rica side the line up was at least 160 people long. Yikes! As we stood there with a WTF look on our faces a handler approached and said for $5.00 each he could get us to the front of the line. What the heck, for $5.00 we were in - but no money would be paid until we were stamped. He proceeded to give us preliminary forms to fill out and then very underhandedly had me collect all three passports and he hussled me to the back of the building where he tried to sneak me into the outgoing line. Of course I got caught by the customs police and had a VERY worried moment but all she did was kick me out of the building making sure that every other person in the place knew who I was and what I`d done. Soooooo, we fired the handler and stood in line for 45 minutes until we received our legitimate entry stamp.
Now here`s the kicker. Costa Rica is just as bad as any other country with the exception that the fees were legitimate and there were no bribes. It still took 2 more hours, numerous different customs agents, piles of paperwork and copies of copies. The irony is the rest of the country is well organized, professional and a bastion of efficiency. All I can figure is they keep the border the way it is in order to maintain their standing in some weird ``Third World`` club.
The rest of the drive was almost surreal after what we`ve seen and done. The road was a silky-smooth velvety black ribbon of perfection that gently caressed our tires with a gentle hum. Narry a pot hole or tope to be seen. The road was overhung with tall thick trees giving everything an ambient glow and the coutryside was clean lush, geen and exceedingly clean.
We passed through two small towns that were clean and well laid out and eventually stopped at the first town of size called Liberia.
It was fantastic. Most of the signs were bi-lingual, everything was clean and organized and
we booked into a Best Western. So how come I wasn`t ecstatic? I should be loving this but I wasn`t. And then that`s when it hit me: Costa Rica isn`t Central America, it`s Central America Lite. It`s what the Kelowna Chamber of Commerce would design in a joint venture with Disney if they were going to design a country for tourists. Liberia looked more like Tempe or Scottsdale than any place else, right down to the strip mall with Churches Chicken, Burger King and Poppa Johns Pizza. I was only out of Nicaragua a day and already I missed it desperately. Is it possible to have two mistresses? Is there room in my heart for more than Mexico. Of course, because after all, this IS Latin America. Viva La Amor!
Mileage 241 - not much but it was still a long day with a border crossing factored in.
Day 23 - Today
Costa Rica lived up to it`s reputation well today and even I have to admit I can certainly see the appeal. First the road: it was excellent the whole way. There were a few times we got stuck behind a transport because there are no passing lanes but nothing worse than the Hope Princeton Hwy. The scenery was beyond fantastic. Cool mountain air, lush greenery, manacured lawns and well kept and organized huge ranches along the way. The gas stations are staffed by clerks that speak some English and we saw lots of tourists in rental cars making their way to one beach resort or another. It may not be my usual thing but I coped as best I could!
We`re now in San Jose for two and a half days of R&R. We`re going to leave the bikes locked up tomorrow and the day after and explore the city on foot. There are some great museums and a couple of day tours we can book right here at the hotel. Viva La Tourista!
Mileage Today - 225
Total Mileage - 6,106
The good news though, is once we left Granada and headed to the border on the morning of Day 22 things changed - dramtically and quickly. It very soon became the Nicaragua I remembered. Smiling faces, a level of civility and calmness unseen in Honduras and Guatemala and a sense of renewal and vibrancy. We chatted with locals when we asked for directions - because once again we got lost trying to leave town - and even had a great conversation with a new member of the Policia Nacional, who only wanted to practice his English. I have to say, it`s still one of my favourite places, Granada excepted, and I`d go back in a minute.
The day continued with a great run to the border.
Ah, the border. My nemisis. This time though it was a little different. Yes, it was chaotic and tested out patience but we were able to make our way through without handles and without bribes or fees. OK, one attempt at a bribe but it back-fired. The first step is to get your passport stamped at immigration but this is a major trans-migration bus route and at any time there are litterly hundreds trying to get through. The process to get out of Nicaragua wasn`t too bad - only an hour or so but when we got to the Costa Rica side the line up was at least 160 people long. Yikes! As we stood there with a WTF look on our faces a handler approached and said for $5.00 each he could get us to the front of the line. What the heck, for $5.00 we were in - but no money would be paid until we were stamped. He proceeded to give us preliminary forms to fill out and then very underhandedly had me collect all three passports and he hussled me to the back of the building where he tried to sneak me into the outgoing line. Of course I got caught by the customs police and had a VERY worried moment but all she did was kick me out of the building making sure that every other person in the place knew who I was and what I`d done. Soooooo, we fired the handler and stood in line for 45 minutes until we received our legitimate entry stamp.
Now here`s the kicker. Costa Rica is just as bad as any other country with the exception that the fees were legitimate and there were no bribes. It still took 2 more hours, numerous different customs agents, piles of paperwork and copies of copies. The irony is the rest of the country is well organized, professional and a bastion of efficiency. All I can figure is they keep the border the way it is in order to maintain their standing in some weird ``Third World`` club.
The rest of the drive was almost surreal after what we`ve seen and done. The road was a silky-smooth velvety black ribbon of perfection that gently caressed our tires with a gentle hum. Narry a pot hole or tope to be seen. The road was overhung with tall thick trees giving everything an ambient glow and the coutryside was clean lush, geen and exceedingly clean.
We passed through two small towns that were clean and well laid out and eventually stopped at the first town of size called Liberia.
It was fantastic. Most of the signs were bi-lingual, everything was clean and organized and
we booked into a Best Western. So how come I wasn`t ecstatic? I should be loving this but I wasn`t. And then that`s when it hit me: Costa Rica isn`t Central America, it`s Central America Lite. It`s what the Kelowna Chamber of Commerce would design in a joint venture with Disney if they were going to design a country for tourists. Liberia looked more like Tempe or Scottsdale than any place else, right down to the strip mall with Churches Chicken, Burger King and Poppa Johns Pizza. I was only out of Nicaragua a day and already I missed it desperately. Is it possible to have two mistresses? Is there room in my heart for more than Mexico. Of course, because after all, this IS Latin America. Viva La Amor!
Mileage 241 - not much but it was still a long day with a border crossing factored in.
Day 23 - Today
Costa Rica lived up to it`s reputation well today and even I have to admit I can certainly see the appeal. First the road: it was excellent the whole way. There were a few times we got stuck behind a transport because there are no passing lanes but nothing worse than the Hope Princeton Hwy. The scenery was beyond fantastic. Cool mountain air, lush greenery, manacured lawns and well kept and organized huge ranches along the way. The gas stations are staffed by clerks that speak some English and we saw lots of tourists in rental cars making their way to one beach resort or another. It may not be my usual thing but I coped as best I could!
We`re now in San Jose for two and a half days of R&R. We`re going to leave the bikes locked up tomorrow and the day after and explore the city on foot. There are some great museums and a couple of day tours we can book right here at the hotel. Viva La Tourista!
Mileage Today - 225
Total Mileage - 6,106
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Days 19, 20 and 21
The last two days included two seperate border crossings. Three, if you count the process of leaving one country before entering another. It´s a demanding difficult process that has gotten harder, not easier, as we´ve travelled south. It´s a necessary evil however, in order to enter the country and finally be able to experience all the positives. And thank goodness for the positives. Without them all you´d have to remember is the border, and that´s NOT the mental picture you want to carry from the journey.
Day 19 La libertad, El Salvador - Choluteca, Honduas
Honduras is a difficult country to like - and I really tried to like it. But......
The early morning run from La libertad to the border was great. Beautiful sunrise, morning mist, good roads: ah, this is going to go well!
And then we arrived at the border.
Or should I say, a junction about a klm short of the border. Where, as we started to slow down to make the turn, ``handlers´´appeared out of the woodwork and ran up to us and along side of us shouting and waiving quasi-official name tags. (Like we don´t know that a copy machine and a laminator is all you need) They converged on us as if we had a baton to pass in some surreal relay race. What they were really trying to do was beat the rush down the road and hold us to some wordless contract based on eye contact alone, whereby they could claim the prize rather than a handler further along. Like it or not, we finally had to stop as we neared the border, and we were litterally desended on by a shouting mass of in your face, look at my card, I saw you first, pick me, PICK ME, desperate handlers. In it´s own weird way it´s almost humerous, unless of course like me, you have a slight bout of tourista, a pounding headache and you´re sweating like a pig at only 10:00 in the morning. I left this go around to Steve and Brad and anyone that approached me got an earfull of angry gringo using language that would put any self-respecting trucker to shame. This time they soon learned to leave El Loco alone.
We eventually settled on a pair of handlers that claimed to be brothers but at least one spoke English. I can´t stress enough the emotional and physical toll this whole process takes. All along we knew we were being taken, which adds anger to the mix, which is not only useless and pointless but decidedly unhealthy, but there´s quite literally nothing you can do about it. The Honduran system is as chaotic as the rest but also has an added layer of difficulty and seems designed to confuse. At this crossing we had to pay our first bribes (twice) trust our handlers with money, and generally had to be willing to be put our trust in people we absolutley knew to be untrustworthy. It´s compounded by the fact that you just know the officials are in on the action. By keeping you on the defensive and by avoiding any signage or instructions whatsoever they´re able to take advantage of you at every step of the way. Oh yes, I was SUCH a happy camper! But at the end of the day, it really doesn´t matter what a couple of Gringos think. It is what it is - and in this this case it was our first reality check where we were definitely faced with the Third World. All in all it took 3 1/2 hours, $50 each in actual fee´s, $50 each in ´´unofficial´´fee´s and another $20 each in handler fee´s. All to get into a country we were leaving the next day.
Once this whole ordeal was over we were spent. We did our best to put on some miles but we called it a day in Choluteka - total klm = 336
So yes, it´s a difficult place to like.
But, as well left Choluteca the next morning it was like a postcard. Beautiful lush green countryside, children walking to school, dappled sunshine filtering through tree´s completley overhanging the road and farmers hearding goats and cattle on the way to the fields. And then the moment that put it all into perspective. As we came around a corner an old man stood at the side of the road. In his arms was a young girl of no more than 3 or 4 years old. He was
stooped with age but proudly held her aloft with the pride that only a gradfather can feel. And she, dressed in her finest, waived madly at each of us as we passed one at a time. For her it was the parade she seldom sees. And as I waived back I wondered; what will her future hold? Will she get the education she needs to break the cycle of poverty she´s trapped in? Will she be able to get a job that will take raise her above this place? I hoped so - but then I realized. In twenty years she could be the next bitch I have to deal with behind a Honduran customs and immigration counter!
Yes, it´s a VERY difficult place to like - but I tried. I really tried!
Day 20 mileage - 312 klm
Total mileage including stops, starts, short cuts and wrong turns etc = 5,640 klm
Tomorrow the journey continues. I just wish there was some way to enter Costa Rica with out another freak´n border crossing!
Adios Mi Amigos
Day 19 La libertad, El Salvador - Choluteca, Honduas
Honduras is a difficult country to like - and I really tried to like it. But......
The early morning run from La libertad to the border was great. Beautiful sunrise, morning mist, good roads: ah, this is going to go well!
And then we arrived at the border.
Or should I say, a junction about a klm short of the border. Where, as we started to slow down to make the turn, ``handlers´´appeared out of the woodwork and ran up to us and along side of us shouting and waiving quasi-official name tags. (Like we don´t know that a copy machine and a laminator is all you need) They converged on us as if we had a baton to pass in some surreal relay race. What they were really trying to do was beat the rush down the road and hold us to some wordless contract based on eye contact alone, whereby they could claim the prize rather than a handler further along. Like it or not, we finally had to stop as we neared the border, and we were litterally desended on by a shouting mass of in your face, look at my card, I saw you first, pick me, PICK ME, desperate handlers. In it´s own weird way it´s almost humerous, unless of course like me, you have a slight bout of tourista, a pounding headache and you´re sweating like a pig at only 10:00 in the morning. I left this go around to Steve and Brad and anyone that approached me got an earfull of angry gringo using language that would put any self-respecting trucker to shame. This time they soon learned to leave El Loco alone.
We eventually settled on a pair of handlers that claimed to be brothers but at least one spoke English. I can´t stress enough the emotional and physical toll this whole process takes. All along we knew we were being taken, which adds anger to the mix, which is not only useless and pointless but decidedly unhealthy, but there´s quite literally nothing you can do about it. The Honduran system is as chaotic as the rest but also has an added layer of difficulty and seems designed to confuse. At this crossing we had to pay our first bribes (twice) trust our handlers with money, and generally had to be willing to be put our trust in people we absolutley knew to be untrustworthy. It´s compounded by the fact that you just know the officials are in on the action. By keeping you on the defensive and by avoiding any signage or instructions whatsoever they´re able to take advantage of you at every step of the way. Oh yes, I was SUCH a happy camper! But at the end of the day, it really doesn´t matter what a couple of Gringos think. It is what it is - and in this this case it was our first reality check where we were definitely faced with the Third World. All in all it took 3 1/2 hours, $50 each in actual fee´s, $50 each in ´´unofficial´´fee´s and another $20 each in handler fee´s. All to get into a country we were leaving the next day.
Once this whole ordeal was over we were spent. We did our best to put on some miles but we called it a day in Choluteka - total klm = 336
So yes, it´s a difficult place to like.
But, as well left Choluteca the next morning it was like a postcard. Beautiful lush green countryside, children walking to school, dappled sunshine filtering through tree´s completley overhanging the road and farmers hearding goats and cattle on the way to the fields. And then the moment that put it all into perspective. As we came around a corner an old man stood at the side of the road. In his arms was a young girl of no more than 3 or 4 years old. He was
stooped with age but proudly held her aloft with the pride that only a gradfather can feel. And she, dressed in her finest, waived madly at each of us as we passed one at a time. For her it was the parade she seldom sees. And as I waived back I wondered; what will her future hold? Will she get the education she needs to break the cycle of poverty she´s trapped in? Will she be able to get a job that will take raise her above this place? I hoped so - but then I realized. In twenty years she could be the next bitch I have to deal with behind a Honduran customs and immigration counter!
Yes, it´s a VERY difficult place to like - but I tried. I really tried!
Day 20
Day 20 started out great - especially the young girl waiving as we went past at 90kph. An early start got us to the Honduras-Nicaragua border by 8:00, where we had to pay even more money to the Honduran Govt, to process our exit paperwork. The good news though, other than some street urchin steeling the brand new watch I purchased in San Salvador the day before, was the speed that the Nicaraguan Govt processed our intake documents. The whole crossing this time couldn´t have taken any more than 2 1/2 hours. (hard to believe I´d ever get to a point where a 2 1/2 hour border crossing would be seen as good news)
Once we crossed into the Nicaraguan side our eyses were really opened to just how bad road conditions could get. We were hit with two things at once. First the road - or lack there of - was incredibly bad. In many cases the pot holes were larger than the road itself and just as I said no pavement would be an improvement over this, the pavement ended and we went to dirt track for at least five klm. I was wrong, the pavement, even such as it was, was better than nothing at all. Brad and I had a few very worrisome moments because we were both thinking the same thing: If this was the state of the road we´d NEVER make any progress and, there was no way our Honda´s could take much more of this pounding. Luckily though, this all ended after about ten klm and we hit brand new pavement - part of new highway construction - and the next 100 klm os so were fantastic.
The other interesting thing we however, was a HUGE trafic jam just inside the Nicaraguan border. Trucks of every size and description were jammd into each other at all angles. Imagine a 50 vehicle pile up on a foggy US interstate and you´ll have an idea of the situation, just without the pile up portion. We waited for a bit but no one moved and we couldn´t make out any rhyme nor reason to who or what was going to sort it out. This is where being on a bike paid off. With some help from the locals and different truck drivers we were able to weave our way through the maze and eventually got spit out the other side.
Which brings me to another point about riding vs. driving a car. I´m fairly new to this so I didn´t know what to expect but it´s completly different from driving a car. It´s fanastic! I think it´s best described as organic. You´re one with the environment as opposed to simply passing through it. I now this sounds way to Zen for me but it´s true. On a bike you feel every temperature change, hear every sound and smell every smell. Your field of vision is much better and because you always have to be in the moment you have a much better sense of where you´re at and what you´re doing. In a car you adjust the AC, roll up the windows to keep it quiet and set the cruise control. On a bike you cough when it´s smoky, sweat when it´s hot, shiver when it´s cold and shoot dirty looks at cars that cut you off. Viva La Motorcycle!
Day 20 continued with great roads and good time until we made the mistake of simply ´´popping´´ into a town we passd so we could get some local currency at an ATM. Us and towns don´t mix and five wrong turns later, the last of which lead us directly to the busiest market street in town, we eventually hit the road again a full hour and a half behind schedule.Oh well, we arrived into Granada with lots of daylight to spare. At least a full ten minutes! Yikes!
We found a very nice hotel though, and today, day 21 has been a good down day. Cold cervaca, multiple cuba libre´s and some great meals - followed by a well deserved nap as soon as I´m finished here.Day 20 mileage - 312 klm
Total mileage including stops, starts, short cuts and wrong turns etc = 5,640 klm
Tomorrow the journey continues. I just wish there was some way to enter Costa Rica with out another freak´n border crossing!
Adios Mi Amigos
More pictures from the road
Pictures on the road:
Pacific Coast
Border crossing
Me - yes, I know it´s posed but I
think the outfit is soooo cool!
Finally - a few pictures!
Getting ready in Phoenix, crossing into Mexico and checking our maps. Note that we´re bundled up - it was VERY cold in the mornings!
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